


My First

by This_Is_Me



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, My First...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_Is_Me/pseuds/This_Is_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two people who should never have met have an encounter that changes them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my Beta for looking this over and catching my mistakes.
> 
> Spasibo  
> Me

**Captain America**

**_Moy Pervyy_ **

**Chapter 1**

After the matron had gone to her room where she would stay for the remainder of the night, the young girl used a hairpin to unlock the handcuffs.  Rubbing her wrist, she padded across the wooden floor, careful not to wake the others.  The cold seeped through the material of her socks, making her feet ache.  She ignored the sensation as she made her way to the roof.  The cold breeze made her shiver, but she didn’t care.  Looking at the stars calmed her, and tonight, the need was greater than on previous occasions.

 

Each day, the graduation ceremony loomed closer.  She didn’t want to go through with it, but like those who had gone before, it would be forced upon her. 

 

The roof window made no sound as she slowly pushed it open.  She made sure of it.  If she were caught out here when she should be sleeping, the punishment would be severe. 

 

She sat in the only corner that was sheltered from the wind, drew her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them.  She’d only been there a short time when a small sound startled her, setting instincts honed to a razor sharp point on alert.  It came again, but this time it was different.  Almost as if someone was in pain, or…

 

A deeper shadow separated itself from the rest as a figure dressed in black stepped out into the swath of moonlight that shone on the tar roof.  He must have sensed she was there because he turned to look at her, though he didn’t speak.  It occurred to her that she should ask his intentions because no one came to this place without an invitation, and if he’d come to do harm, they would already be fighting.

 

Until now, the only males she’d had contact with were the doctors, those who trained the girls in hand-to-hand combat, and the occasional observer.  Certainly she had never met one this close to her own age.

 

She felt no aggression from him, and so, she patted the space next to her in invitation.  His eyes shone like blue topaz in the light from the moon, the rest of his face hidden, his expression unreadable.  At first, she thought he would refuse.  Then, he sat beside her, mirroring her position.  Knees drawn in, and arms around them for warmth, though she sensed that the cold hadn’t the same effect on him that it did on her.  Sometimes, when she was feeling especially lonely or vulnerable, like now, the cold seemed to be a part of her.  As if bits of her heart were freezing.

 

They sat together for some time, her shivering involuntarily every few minutes.  She really should go in, but wasn’t ready yet.  She felt him looking at her, and for the first time since he’d made himself known, her companion moved.  He draped his right arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to his side.

 

In response, she turned toward him slightly so that she could lay her head against the front of his shoulder, and her hand on his chest, basking in the added warmth.  A small, sharp inhale came from him, as if she’d surprised or startled him.  It had to have been her imagination because he didn’t appear to be the kind of man who was easily caught off guard.  It gave her a feeling of power that she could cause that reaction in any man, but especially this one.

 

He shifted, and her breasts, overly sensitive this close to the start of her cycle, pressed against the leather straps of his vest, causing them to harden to the point of pain that was at the same time sensual.  She shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold.

 

And in between one breath and the next, it came to her that she wanted to know what it was like to have a man find her desirable, to want to be with her in the most intimate way two people could be together.  At no time since she’d been brought to this place had she, or the other girls, been shown even the smallest bit of affection.  And she wanted it.  Needed it.   _Craved_ it, as a man stranded in the desert craves water.  Even if it was only this one time.

 

Slowly, she reached up to touch his cheek.  The prickly hair of his beard tickled the tips of her fingers as she drew them from his temple down to just above his mouth where she encountered the edge of a mask.  His left hand covered hers, pressing her palm against his face.  He looked down at her, and she smiled. 

 

His arm loosened its hold as she got to her knees, and pressed a feathery kiss in front of the ear closest to her.  The hand on his cheek urged him to turn his head so she could repeat the gesture on the other side.  Then, she rose up so she could touch her lips to his forehead, and that spot just above the bridge of his nose.  At the contact, his eyes closed, his breath escaped in a long sigh.

 

Before she could continue, his gloved left hand grasped the mask covering the lower half of his face, and removed it.  The moon was now behind a cloud, leaving them in a muted twilight where they could see very little of each other but the eyes.  

 

His right arm had remained around her, his hand having slipped down so that it curved around the lower part of her bottom, so close, yet so far from the part of her that yearned to feel his touch.  The strong fingers flexed into the flesh through the material of her gown in response to her tiny caresses. 

 

He hugged her to him, firmly yet gently, the edge of his left gloved thumb rubbing first against the side of her breast then the curved underside in front.  Oh, so slowly, he pulled her across his lap while at the same time lowering his head toward hers.  

 

She held onto his shoulders, digging the nails into him, gripping and releasing in time to the beat of her heart.  There was a breathless moment of anticipation then their lips touched.  Softly at first, tentatively, as if he hadn’t done this in a long, long time, and wanted to savor the sensations the same way she did. 

 

Feeling greatly daring, she brushed the tip of her tongue over his lips.  A gasp exploded from her throat when his mouth parted just far enough to allow their tongues to touch.  He opened wider, and she responded by pushed her tongue against his harder until it slipped into his mouth, and his into hers in a heated exchange.  The slippery sensations were so potent that she tingled all over, the feeling winding its way through her body, and settling in the area between her thighs, making her throb.

 

Without letting their mouths lose contact, she placed one knee on either side of his thighs so that she was astride his lap.  In this position, she could easily feel his body reacting to their physical closeness, and friction of their movements, causing a shimmy of delight to flip her stomach over.

 

He pulled back from their kiss, and his hold loosened.  She leaned back, a question in her eyes.  In response, he slowly and deliberately removed the glove from his right hand, leaving the left on.  He swept the left hand around to her back, skimming it over the dips and flares of her shape until he could wriggle under the bottom edge of her gown.

 

The moment the gloved hand touched her firm bottom, her mouth dropped open, a gasp coming from her throat as she closed her eyes and arched her back.  And while her addled brain processed the unanticipated stroke over her skin, his other hand joined the first on the opposite side, doubling the intensity with the disparate sensations of warm and gentle, cold and rough at the same time.

 

She felt his mouth on the base of her neck, and the barely there touch of his warm, wet tongue as he moved over her throat to capture her lips once more.  The sensation of falling lasted but a moment then she was on her back with his body blocking the sky from view.  And now, she could see that his hair was dark and long, falling forward to brush the edge of his jaw.  His eyes glittered with heat, and fire, and awareness, stoking those same sensations within her.

 

Holding himself up with his left arm, he reached between them to the hem of her gown, sliding his hand underneath and over her thigh.  When he reached the crease where the hip and thigh met, he hesitated, but only for a moment before gently urging her thighs apart so he could touch her intimately.

 

She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, forcing a gasp back into her throat as the calloused pads of his fingers dragged over her flesh, bringing her pleasure she hadn’t known was possible.  That feeling soared even higher when one finger slipped inside her, first twisting then sliding in and out.  Her other hand dug into his arm through his shirt as bright lights burst behind her eyelids.  She covered her mouth with her palm, barely stopping a scream, turning it into a series of panting whimpers.

 

Then, before she could collect herself, his fingers continued their upward journey, taking her gown with it. The material pulled up to her waist, leaving her bare bottom touching the cold roof.

 

Brushing the back of the fingers of her left hand over his cheek produced a reaction she hadn’t anticipated, had she ever expected to find herself in this situation.  His right hand covered hers, and he turned into the touch like a flower seeking the sun.  His eyes drifted shut, and warm breath whispered over the sensitive skin of her wrist, her pulse leaping in response.

 

And then he did something else that she hadn’t expected.  He smiled.  It was the sort of smile someone might use when they experience something they hadn’t for many years, and never thought to feel again.  If she could put a name to it, she would say joy, or bliss, or even rapture.

 

He’d touched her intimately, and she wanted to do the same for him.  She also wanted to touch his bare chest, feel the weight of him pressing her into the roof.  But most of all she wanted…

 

The nails of her free hand scraped down the front of his vest, past the rock hard muscles of his abdomen, and curled into the waistband of his pants.  A short, quick flick of her fingers pushed the button through the hole.  She held the tab of the zipper between thumb and forefinger, slowly lowered it to the bottom, and spread the sides.

 

He finally released her hand, and opened his eyes when she reached inside his pants, finding him hot, and hard and ready.  Gripping him tightly, but not too much so, she found an instinctive up and down rhythm that he found pleasurable to go by increase in the speed of his breathing.

 

His chin dropped to his heaving chest, and she knew that the end was near for him.  She wanted to do this for him, as he’d done for her.  But he didn’t allow it.  With the upmost care, he pried her fingers from him, and leaned back.

 

Together, they pushed his pants off his hips, down to the bottoms of his thighs.  She’d only ever seen the male anatomy in illustrations.  Now she hungered for the sight of him.

 

Pressing her hands against his chest, she urged him into an upright position.  And at that moment, the clouds parted, the moon shining on them, as if God were giving his approval.

 

Their eyes locked as he opened the vest, and the shirt it covered.  His chest expanded and contracted in time with his breathing.  The rippling muscles above and below his navel drew her eyes downward one agonizing inch at a time.  And when she saw him for the first time, her mouth dropped open, for the reality far surpassed anything in her imagination.

 

Vaulting to a sitting position, she yanked her gown off and tossed it aside.  Before she’d even completed the act, he placed his hands under her arms, lifting until she was on her knees again.  She wanted him to touch her everywhere at once. Her fingers wrapped around his wrists, moving his hands from under her arms to cover her breasts.

 

Obediently, he flexed his fingers over the fleshy globes, cupping them reverently, and rubbing his thumbs over the hardened centers.  She gasped, and shoved her hands into that long hair, pulling him to her for another kiss.

 

His right arm moved to her waist, holding her tightly against his bare chest, and lifting her in the air. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his hips, locking her ankles behind his back.  He tilted forward, laying her down, and settling between her splayed thighs.  Though she tugged at his shoulders, silently begging him to hurry, he pushed forward with tormenting slowness.

 

And when they finally made intimate contact, she let loose a rapturous moan that rose in pitch.  There was the brief moment of pain that she’d known would happen, and then they were finally one.  She clutched at his back as he moved inside her, building that sweet tension to a fever pitch.  Faster, and faster, the friction of their movement driving her insane.

 

He stopped for a brief moment, letting his head hang down so that his long hair tickled her nose, cheeks and forehead, as if gathering his wits about him.  Then he moved his hips back, paused, and thrust himself even deeper, once, twice, and a third time, finally pushing her over the edge into the first wave of orgasmic freefall.

 

He continued to move, and a second wave tore through every fiber of her being.

 

A third, stronger wave of pleasure rolled through her as every muscle in her entire body tightened simultaneously.  To keep from screaming out loud, she grabbed handfuls of his hair and brought their mouths and tongues together for another sensuous dance. 

 

Abruptly, he separated their mouths, and placed his temple against hers, panting hard.  Then, he grunted-the closest he’d come to speaking-and thrust deeper still, and his hot release flooded her body.

 

Holding him close allowed his hot breath to puff against her neck, causing her skin to prickle with goose flesh.  Framing his face with her hands, she forced him to look at her, to see her smile of thanks for showing her how pleasurable being intimate with a man could be when she, and the others, had been taught from a very young age that sex was just a tool, a means to an end.

 

Her leg muscles became lax, sliding down his sides, effectively releasing him.  He kissed her once more, and moved back, separating their bodies.  With him gone, she felt empty.  On his knees, his eyes roamed over her naked body, and though she should have felt embarrassed and vulnerable, she didn’t.

 

When he’d looked his fill, he grabbed her gown, turned it right side out, and took her hand.  Pulling her into a sitting position, he helped her get dressed, his hands looking big compared to the row of tiny buttons on the front.

 

They stood together, and as he’d done for her, she grasped the waistband of his pants, and pulled them up over his hips.  She buttoned the shirt, and closed the vest over it, before tucking the shirt into his pants, and doing up the front.

 

His big warm hands held her by the arms as he leaned down for one more kiss before enfolding her against his chest.  They backed away from each other, and she went to the window.  Looking over her shoulder, she watched him standing in the middle of the roof, her sanctuary, as she opened the window, and put first one foot then the other over the sill.  She turned around, and with her hands on the bottom edge, she smiled.  In one short downward push, she closed him and the night out, pulling the curtains together, effectively ended their association.

 

In bed, she snapped the handcuff around her wrist, snuggled under the covers, and closed her eyes, whispering, “ _Moy pervyy_.”

 

~~O~~

 

His orders had been clear and concise: Sanction and return.  Not once had he failed to complete a mission… until tonight.  Not once had he lied to those whose orders he followed, hadn’t been able to lie… until tonight.

 

For the first time that he could remember, he’d defied the man who held sway over his actions with the red book and recited words.

 

“ _Doklad missii_ , s _oldat._ ”

 

He passed over the weapons, and the file.  A photograph fell out.  It was of the red-haired girl he’d been sent to sanction, the girl on the roof.  But once he saw her, all thought of sanctioning had fled.

 

Somehow, for a short span of time, the man he used to be had awakened long enough to prevent her death.  In the moonlight, he’d seen her as a sensuous young woman, not a target to be sanctioned.  And in place of death, they’d been intimate.  He couldn’t remember the last time, and so, he lied to the one who controlled him.  “ _Mishen’ sanktsionirovannykh_.”

 

**_Dobroy Nochi_ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Captain America**

**My First**

**Chapter 2**

 

He slowly became aware of his surroundings.  First touch, the not-gentle hands of those whose orders he obeyed as he was dragged through the halls.  Sound came next, and then light.  Smell was always there somehow, and he didn’t care for the scent of himself when he was brought out of the chamber.  It was a combination of sweat and something undefinable, almost rotten.  He was taken to the chair, and placed in it, just as always.  Shackles were snapped around his arms, legs, and ankles while the gear was lowered over his head.

 

The man with the book walked around him, speaking the words that would turn him into something else while electricity coursed through his head, burning him from the inside out.  He screamed, over and over, wanting nothing more than for it to stop, even if it meant his death.

 

“… _odin_ … _gruzovoy avtomobil’_.”

 

The pain finally stopped, and he was released.

 

“ _Soldat?_ ”

 

He paused, examined his motivations as his got to his feet.  “ _Gotovy soblyudat’_.”

 

The man held out a folder that contained his mission parameters.  Then he was taken into a room where he showered, and dressed as usual.  One of the white coats awaited him with a bottle of liquid.  He dressed, and drank the liquid as ordered.

 

~~~~~

 

With his mission completed, he found himself standing on the roof of a building watching another.  The window across the way opened, and a figure stepped out.  Female, wearing a gown, and socks.  She sat in a corner, drew her knees up, and looked into the sky.

 

He looked up as well, and only saw pinpoints of light.  What she got out of her nightly forays he didn’t know or care.  He wasn’t programmed to be curious.  Just to comply with his orders.

 

But for some reason, every time he came to this city, he would defy the leader _and_ his orders, and come here to watch the girl on the roof.  By his memory, this was the fifth time.  On the first occasion, he’d been sent to sanction her, but the moment their eyes met, he couldn’t.  If those who ruled over him knew, they would send another to sanction her, and he would be placed into the chamber, never to see the light, or the girl for the rest of his life.  The thought of never seeing her again disturbed him for some reason.

 

Getting to his feet, he jumped onto the parapet, and over the side, landing on the roof of the shorter building between the two taller ones.  He jumped from that roof to the fire escape on the other, and quickly made his way to the top.

 

~~O~~

 

Sensing she was being watched, she thought to go back inside, to avoid a fight.  Not that she wasn’t adept.  That had been proven time and time again with the trainers.  She just didn’t feel up to a confrontation.  There were other things that occupied her thoughts.

 

For some reason, Madame B, and the doctors were paying extra attention to her these last few weeks, though nothing about her was different.  Not that they could tell.  The night she spent on the roof with the stranger, and the fact that she was no longer a virgin were the only changes.  No physical exams or tests had been done that would give them that information.  The doctors had merely taken blood, and asked her over and over if she was feeling well, or had any unusual symptoms.

 

She had answered truthfully each time they asked no matter how many time or what form the question took.  One night, instead of coming out to the roof as was her habit now, she attempted to break into the clinic in order to read her file, to find out what was going on.  But one of the researchers had been in the office, and she’d gone back to bed unsatisfied.  With subtle questioning, she found out that the other girls were not being peppered with unwarranted questions about their health.  Why her?

 

The scuff of a shoe on the metal fire escape told her someone was near.  She got to her feet, and prepared to confront the intruder.  But before his head had cleared the parapet, she knew his identity, and stood waiting for him when he jumped the last few feet.

 

She smiled, and he returned it, still seeming to be out of practice.  “Natalia.”

 

His eyes tracked back and forth, as if he were a computer searching for the information.  Then he sighed, and their eyes met again.  “James.”

 

Holding out her hand, she waited for James to take it.  And after a long moment, he did.

 

As on the previous occasions, they sat together on the rooftop for a while, his arm around her, and her head on his shoulder.  This time, he placed a finger under her chin, tilted her head back so he could drop a kiss on her waiting lips.  It was brief, too much so for her liking.

 

When he started to withdraw, Natalia slithered her hand up his chest and around his neck, bringing his mouth back to hers.  Once more, she touched his lips with her tongue, and he responded in kind, lighting a spark that soon consumed them both.

 

~~~~~

 

James always appeared on a Thursday night, and each Thursday, Natalia watched for him, trying not to be disappointed on those times he didn’t show up.  They didn’t talk much, and that was fine with her.  Him too, apparently.  Though down inside, she sensed that at one time, he’d been an entertaining and garrulous companion.  What could have happened to dim that part of his personality?  Perhaps one day they could run off together, and he would be that man once again.  It was a dream, a fantasy, and she felt no remorse for the indulgence.

 

With the warmer weather, she now wore pajamas in place of the heavy flannel.  It made her feel free, almost sensuous, alluring, and mature.

 

In the quiet of the night, Natalia heard his footsteps on the fire escape, and rushed to greet him.  James jumped the last few steps, landing surefooted in front of her, arms at his side.  And for the first time, he greeted her with a smile instead of waiting for hers to show itself.

 

His usual MO was to let her make the first move towards physical contact.  That’s why she was pleasantly surprised when he held his arms out in invitation.  With a happy smile, she threw herself into his arms, and he held her tight, pressing his cheek against her temple.  Natalia felt his nose brush through her hair, and heard him inhale her scent, as if he were making a memory.

 

He moved back just far enough so that he could pick her up, and carried her to their spot by the wall.  There was a breathless moment where she felt like she was falling, and then James was sitting on the roof with her on his lap.

 

She snuggled into his embrace, and he just held her, one arm around her back, and the other on her hip.  As he’d done the other times, he wore a glove on the left hand, and the right remained uncovered.  At times, Natalia had wondered if the skin of his left hand was disfigured, or he had a wound of which he was ashamed, but didn’t want to ask.

 

They sat like that for what seemed like hours, and when she could stand the waiting no longer, Natalia reached up  to brush the hair from his face, lightly touching his cheek with her fingertips.  James took the hint, and kissed her, building the fire that consumed them every time they met.

 

He lifted her while getting to his knees, lay her on the roof, and followed her down, resting on his left hip, and his right knee nudging her legs apart so he could wedge it between her thighs.

 

All the times they’d been together, James had let her lead, make all the first moves, unless she encouraged him.  Now, it was different.  He led, and she willingly followed, and for those few hours, he made Natalia believe in a life other than that for which she’d been trained.

 

~~~~~

 

The girls patiently waited for Madame B to speak.  As always, she stood straight and tall, hands folded in front of her, and her eyes raking over the room.

 

“I’ve gathered you here this morning to let you know that Natalia will not be with us for a while.  She has been chosen for a special project by the KGB.  While she is gone, do not speak of her or the reason for her absence.  If anyone asks after her, refer them to me.

 

“Do not see this as an affront to your abilities, as you are all highly skilled.  Natalia was simply the best choice for this particular project.”  She swept her stern gaze over the group, reading compliance in their faces.  “Dismissed.”

**Fourteen Months Later**

 

The limousine pulled up in front of the imposing edifice, and stopped at the curb.  The driver came around to open the door, extending his hand to the passenger.  She placed her hand in his, and with haughty disdain, allowed him to help her from the back.

 

Wearing a cashmere coat, matching hat, gloves, and scarf, she waited impatiently for the man to open the front door of the only home she’d ever known.  She went inside without acknowledging his efforts, pulling the gloves, hat and scarf off in the warmth of the entryway.  Within moments, she was met by Madame B.  In the year the young woman had been gone, not much had changed.  Certainly not the clothing Madame chose for herself, colorless and unflattering to her figure, as was the hair style, and footwear.

 

She matched Madame’s air of superiority with her own, refusing to be intimidated by the woman as she had in the past.  When you’ve been hailed around the world for your performances as Swanhilda in _Coppélia_ , Nikiya in _La Bayadère_ , and Juliet of _Romeo and Juliet_ , the opinions of others meant less than nothing.

 

“Welcome home, Natalia,” Madame greeted her at the bottom of the ornate staircase that led up to the dormitories.  “You have been missed.”

 

Natalia unbuttoned her coat, and one of the attendants was there to take it.  She glanced over her shoulder in annoyance when a cold breeze followed the driver in with her bags.  He set them where the attendant indicated, tipped his hat, and was gone again.  As much as she wanted to ignore Madame, it wouldn’t do to anger her.  “While the venue was not missed, I did find myself longing for familiar faces this last year.”

 

In a stern voice that gave away nothing of her thoughts, Madame stated simply, “You changed your hair.”

 

Involuntarily, Natalia’s hand touched the auburn strands that had been cut to above her shoulders.  At this length, the waves were more evident.  “Taking care of long hair became a nuisance so, before leaving Paris, I had it cut.  The shorter style suits me better, I think.”

 

For a moment, Natalia thought Madame would say otherwise.  Then, her mouth turned up in that tight little smile of hers.  “Indeed.”  She gestured toward the hallway that lead to the dining area.  “The others are just sitting down to dinner.  Please join us.”

 

“The plane ride from Paris was exhausting.  I’d like to freshen up first.”

 

“Of course.”  Madame inclined her head.  “We’ll see you in a few minutes.”

 

Natalia turned around, and the attendant had already taken them upstairs.  She followed, wondering how she would be treated now that she’d been out in the world, celebrated for her talents in the ballet.  Would she continue with that, or as she’d been told on many occasions, use it as just another cover for the other, less savory activities as a spy and assassin?  If she had to guess, she would have to go with the second option, despite her wishes.

 

While on tour, she’d become infatuated with a pilot by the name of Alexei Shostakov, and he with her.  Natalia held up her left hand, bare at the moment.  While in Rome, they had secretly wed, and had made plans to be together within the next few months.  Their marriage was legal and binding as the age of consent in Italy was fourteen, and Natalia had turned sixteen just three months prior.  She would find a way for them to be together, and still excel at their professions.  Their talk of having children had caused their first argument as husband and wife.  It had ended when she told him of the graduation ceremony performed on her this past spring.  He’d held her so tenderly when she spoke of the sadness she endured at not being able to have children.  And that was the last time the subject had been brought up.

 

Alexei was twelve years her senior, but that didn’t mean their love wasn’t real.  After a long night of discussion, it had been decided that Natalia would return to the Red Room, where she would receive additional training under a mysterious figure whose name had not been given.  At its completion, she would be employed by the KGB, formerly the main security agency for the Soviet Union.  Since the collapse of the USSR in 1991, the KGB had been forced to operate underground, and Natalia, as one of the Black Widows, would become one of their agents specializing in counterintelligence, foreign intelligence, and operative-investigatory activities.

 

She had excelled in her preferred method of interrogation, a technique she’d used to get to know Alexei during their first meeting at a party to celebrate the ballet company’s success after their first performance in Moscow.  Alexei had been a guest of the Minister of Science and his wife.  He was also their nephew, and had urged him to attend in order to immerse himself in the arts.

 

From his telling, Natalia had discovered that he’d been reluctant to attend as he tended to get bored when sitting for long periods.  That is until he’d seen her dancing on stage as Nikiya, and had become smitten with her red hair, green eyes, and short stature.  His admission had made her really and truly laugh for the first time since she could remember.  They made plans that night to spend the next afternoon together, and from that point, their romance had blossomed into love.  He knew she was young, only fifteen.  And when he confessed his love for her, she’d done so as well.  The revelation that she cared for him had been a surprise because Natalia had thought herself incapable of feeling such an emotion.

 

When the attendant had gone, she put away her clothes, tossed those that would need washing in the basket in the corner, and put her personal items on the dresser.  Among them was a hand-carved wooden box not more than three inches across.  She removed the top, and nestled in the satin lining was a sparkling diamond set into a circle of gold.  The stone wasn’t large, twice the size of the mole on her right thigh, but it had a value beyond price.  She checked that the door was locked, and slipped the ring on her left hand, holding it up as if showing it off to her friends.  It was a symbol of the never ending love she and Alexei had for each other. The one he wore didn’t have a stone. Natalia would have preferred that their wedding rings matched, but he was insistent that the woman he loved should have a diamond on her wedding day.

 

There came a knock on the door.  Natalia replaced the ring in the box, and tucked it out of sight.  Later, she would find a more secure hiding place.

 

She opened the door to find Yelena Belova standing there with her fingers woven together in front of her.  Of all the girls at the facility, Yelena was the closest thing she had to a friend.  They didn’t share confidences, but did talk on occasion of things other than training, and lessons, and the missions they would be sent on when it was time.

 

“Madame sent me to bring you to dinner.”

 

Natalia nodded, and brushed the bangs out of her eyes.  “I just need to change.”

 

“Of course.”  Yelena inclined her head and walked away, and when she’d disappeared down the stairs, Natalia closed the door, and leaned against it.

 

For meals, the girls were required to dress and behave a certain way, while keeping conversation to a minimum.  It saddened Natalia that she had no one, except Alexei, with whom she could laugh, and enjoy life.  But once she was away from the facility that would all change.  The man who’d become her husband less than a month after their first meeting had vowed to show her a whole new world outside of ballet practice, training, and her studies.  She looked forward to seeing, as the Americans said, how the other half lives.

 

Revitalized by thoughts of Alexei, Natalia quickly changed her clothes, and put on the plain, flat shoes required by Madame B, pulled on a beige cardigan against the chill, and went downstairs to join the others.

 

~~O~~

 

Weeks later, Natalia found herself pacing in her room instead of sleeping.  This morning had been nine days since Alexei’s most recent letter.

 

Since she’d returned from her tour with the ballet company, Madame had allowed her freedoms not afforded most of the others.  She was no longer handcuffed to the bed at night.  Television privileges had been allotted her, one hour a day, but only the news or an educational program.  She was even permitted to make and receive phone calls.  Something she didn’t avail herself of as she didn’t want anyone, especially Madame, to find out about Alexei, and their plans to run away together.

 

Using some of the money Alexei had insisted she take, Natalia had rented a post office box on the other side of the city.  Once a week, she would go there taking a different route each time, and watching for anyone following her.  Those days were the highlight of her week because there would always be at least two letters from her husband, signed, _vsey dushoyu, Alexei_.  Until three days ago.

 

At that time, the box had been empty.  Thinking he might be in an area that had no mail service, she waited a day, and returned.  Still nothing.  And again on the third trip.  From the day they met, they’d seldom gone more than a day or so without speaking on the phone, or sending a note either by courier, or mail.  The only exception being the week he’d spent teaching a class to pilots-in-training, after which, he’d expressed a wish to open a flying school when he retired.  Her dream was to open a ballet school for children, in order to have an outlet for her nurturing nature.

 

Natalia stopped at the window, parting the curtains a few inches so she could see the moon and stars.  The sight of them had once calmed her mind, but now they only brought about strange sensations.  Sometimes, she would have disturbing dreams of a faceless man who pursued her through the streets.  And when he caught up to her, their fights always ended up with her on her back, and him looming over her, laughing maniacally.  On those nights, she would awaken in a cold sweat, unable to go back to sleep.

 

She vowed to wait one more week, and if she hadn’t heard from Alexei in that time, she would begin to make discrete inquiries.  It was what she’d been trained for, what she excelled at, and she had no doubt that she would get the information she sought.

 

**A Few Days Later**

 

When Natalia saw the letter in the box, her heart swelled with love, and relief.  She snatched the letter from the box, slammed the door, and shoved the key, and the letter, into her pocket.

 

On most occasions, she would wait until she’d returned to the Red Room facility to read her husband’s letters in the privacy of her room.  But today, she couldn’t wait.  She stopped at a small café, ordered a hot drink, and once it had been delivered, she took a few sips to fortify her before tearing open the envelope.

 

Her eyes devoured Alexei’s slightly messy scrawl throughout the first few paragraphs where he professed his undying love, building her hopes for their life together.

 

Then, after reading the second page of the letter, those hopes and dreams came crashing down around her ears.  It was a computer printed letter from his commanding officer, who coldly stated that Alexei had been killed while testing a new aircraft for the military.  His body had been so badly burned, that there had been nothing left to bury, and so an empty coffin had been interred in his family plot in Chelyabinsk, the administrative center of Chelyabinsk Oblast.

 

The pages crumpled in her hands as she bravely held onto her emotions.  It wouldn’t do for a future Black Widow to be seen crying in public.  Sniffing back her tears, Natalia smoothed out the pages, refolded them, and returned them to the envelope.  She finished her drink, and made her way back to the Red Room.

 

After the evening meal, Natalia returned to her room where she took all of Alexei’s letters from their hiding place, and reread them one at a time, savoring each line, holding his words of love close to her heart.

 

**That Evening**

 

Yelena raised her hand to knock on Madame’s office door, pausing just a moment before rapping her knuckled on the heavy wood.

 

“ _Vy mozhete vvesti_.” She turned the knob, stepped inside, and quietly closed the door.

 

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Madame.” The stern woman gestured for Yelena to sit, and she perched on the edge of a brocade armchair in front of the desk.

 

“What seems to be the problem, Yelena?”

 

“Tonight, I went to speak to Natalia.  I wanted to hear about the tour, the places she visited.”  She crossed her ankles, and tucked her feet under the chair.  “When she didn’t answer, I opened the door, and found her sitting on the bed facing the window, holding a blank piece of paper in her hands.  Scattered around her on the bed were more blank pages.”

 

Madame smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, it never did.  She set the pad and pen aside, and folded her hands on the desk.  “Do not worry.  Natalia is merely working through an exercise that she was assigned.  It means nothing.  Go on about your business, and mention this to no one.”

 

Standing, Yelena nodded.  “Yes, Madame.”

 

**_Dobroy Nochi_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coppélia is a comic ballet based upon two stories by E. T. A. Hoffmann: Der Sandmann (The Sandman) and Die Puppe (The Doll).
> 
> La Bayadère (The Temple Dancer) is a ballet, originally staged in four acts and seven tableaux.
> 
> Romeo and Juliet is a ballet by Sergei Prokofiev based on William Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet.
> 
> Vsey dushoyu = With all my soul
> 
> Vy mozhete vvesti = You may enter


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